Copper Pot of Gold

There is a story

ancient old

about a copper

pot of gold,

tho’ not of the kind

usually sought by man,

but a living kind

that grows freely

upon the land,
whose value really

is quite priceless

and this was known

by a certain pirate

who gripped that pot

till the day he died

with a strength like iron

so that even if we dared

we could not pry it loose

with all our might;

He clutches it still

though all that's left of him

is bones

and perhaps the distant

moans and groans

of what he died of

mysteriously

as he sat at the base

of an old oak tree.

Really, truly

quite quite ponderous

as all about the scene

is an eerie green

like that of phosphorus

and engraved upon the pot

are words,

I believe for all of us

that to continue

to try and rid the world

of this gold

is preposterous

bordering

on

monstrous!

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Within the writing of this poetry
are hints that act as memory hooks
to help one to recall

some of the properties

of a plant,

plus its uses and looks.

If you'd like to hear them

as I am often on the wing,

You may contact me through

this address ( lovellsimonsjanet_at_yahoo.ca)

then I'll give you a ring.

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